


these stars will guide us home

by everythingislove (straykid)



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Growing Up, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-18 08:57:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14209665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straykid/pseuds/everythingislove
Summary: The first time Isak holds the stars in the palm of his hand, he is three-years-old.Or: the five times Isak has his stars, and the one time he finds his moon.





	these stars will guide us home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [puddingandpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddingandpie/gifts).



> happy birthday josie!!!!! this fic is a gift for you. i hope you enjoy my first solo attempt at writing magical realism, and have a very great birthday!
> 
> (p.s. i didn’t mean for this to turn into a 5+1 things fic but... oh well)

_i._

The first time Isak holds the stars in the palm of his hand, he is three-years-old.

His parents are fighting again, and the thin walls of the house do little to muffle their voices. Mamma is yelling, which only ever makes Pappa yell too, and he can’t sleep with all of the noise.

When Mamma haphazardly tucked him in earlier, she forgot to pull his curtains shut. With his bed facing the window, he can just make out a few freckles spots painting the sky. He crawls to the very edge of his bed and plops himself down there, gawking at the world beyond the glass. It’s beautiful, and he wants to see _more._

Tiny toddler feet hit the hardwood flooring, and quietly pad to his bedroom door. It’s a stretch for him to reach the knob, but he’s tall for his age, and just manages to twist it open. He carefully walks out into the hallway, and sits down on the top step. He’s not allowed to walk down the steps on his own yet, so he decides he’ll scoot down on his butt.

By the time he reaches the bottom of the stairs, his parents have increased their volume to full blown screaming. It will be a miracle if the police don’t show up.

He makes his way through the kitchen to the sliding glass doors leading to their backyard. The doors aren’t shut the entire way, and he just manages to squeeze through the gap.

Isak looks skyward and falls in love.

Now that he’s outside, he can see the full view of the stars above him. He spins around in a small circle, awful of the sheer number of them. They’re bright, glimmering—and he wants them.

He cups his hands together, squeezes his eyes shut tight, and wills the little specks to appear.

If Lea, his big sister, were here, she’d make fun of him for this. She’d say it’s impossible to hold the stars, and call him silly for even wishing he could. She’s twelve and seizes every opportunity to remind him he’s a dumb little kid. He’s glad that she’s sleeping over at her friends house.

His hands start to tingle. It’s an almost ticklish feeling, with the buzz of raw energy settling into his palms and around his stubby little fingers.

Isak peeks one eye open.

There, in his hands, is the constellation he’d just been marveling. It’s scattered over his skin, small—almost like a miniature model. They irradiate his milky pale skin with a warm glow.

“Woah,” he breathes to himself. He dares to tap one gently with his pinky finger, and just like that, it disappears.

His gaze turns upward again. The world above him is a blanket of darkness, stripped every star except the one he’d just given back to the universe. He taps another one gently just to test, and sure enough, it disappears from his palm and returns to the sky.

Maybe if he were older and wiser, he’d rush inside to show his parents. They probably wouldn’t mind him interrupting if they actually saw what he can do. But because he’s young and naive, he settles down onto the grass and plays with his brand new friends.

-

_ii._

Isak meets Jonas during his first year of school.

He hates him.

Jonas is loud, and obnoxious, and balances pencils on his nose to make the other kids giggle. He makes jokes during science lessons—which, in Isak’s opinion, are the best part of the school day—and constantly interrupts their teacher.

“I think he’s my nemesis,” Isak tells his family seriously, after recounting Jonas’ antics of the day. (He had released the class pet, a hamster called Sven, and they missed almost all of science trying to catch him.)

“Nemesis,” Lea snorts. “You’re such a dork.”

“Am not!” Isak defends with a pout. “You’re just a—a poo head!”

“Both of you, that’s enough,” Pappa barks out, and just like that, they fall silent. Isak still sticks his tongue out at her, though.

“Now, what’s this about a nemesis?” Mamma asks. Isak’s not really surprised that she wasn’t listening; she zones out a lot these days. She insists it’s stress.

Once again, Isak shares the story of Sven the hamster and their missed science lesson. Lea rolls her eyes. Pappa tells him that Jonas is a class clown; the kind of kid that most people want to be friends with. Mamma calls him a “disrespectful little shit,” and then yells at Pappa for encouraging their son to make friends with someone who is clearly a sinner.

“Well, at least he would have a friend!” Pappa yells back. Then there’s silence. Even Lea winces.

Isak mulls over his father’s words for a long pause. He thinks that maybe he should be offended, but he’s not. His pappa is wrong; he does have friends, they just live up in the sky where they belong. He decides to tell him as much.

“The stars,” Isak says confidently. “They’re my friends.”

“Hear that, Marianne? He’s friends with the stars,” Pappa says blithely.

“Dad,” Lea says. It sounds like a warning.

“Isak, sweetheart,” Mamma swallows, looking at her youngest child. She seems disappointed, or sad, or both.

“I kissed Samuel!” Lea blurts. “On the lips and everything!” Their parent’s eyes turn to her—Pappa’s narrowed dangerously, and Mamma’s blown wide with horror.

Isak slips away from the table while they begin to lecture his sister about cooties, or whatever else comes with kissing. He hesitates at the bottom of the stairs, meeting Lea’s eyes.

 _Thank you,_ he mouths. Lea merely nods, before returning her gaze to their parents.

He sneaks up to his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. Part of him feels bad for leaving Lea down there, but it’ll only be a matter of time before their parents are yelling at each other instead of her anyways.

Isak heads toward his window, carefully pushing it open. The cold air against his skin feels like home.

He slowly climbs out onto the roof, mindful not to lose his footing as he sits himself down. It’s not completely dark yet, but he can just make out a few scattered stars and the silhouette of the moon.

“Who needs people friends when I have you?” He asks, addressing the barely visible stars. Tears start rolling down his cheeks, accompanied by a feeling in the pit of his stomach he can’t identify.

His eyes move down toward the inside of his wrist, where a familiar tingling is starting. There’s a small spark of light, before it dims enough for him to see the star settled there.

Isak can’t help the watery smile that appears on his face. The stars always seem to know when he’s upset; while he can draw them down at will, occasionally, they go out of their way to comfort him too.

They’re good friends—the kind he needs. The _only_ kind he needs, no matter what his pappa says.

-

_iii._

One week later, an older kid shoves Isak down on the playground at school.

He skins his knees and palms against the pavement, but he doesn’t cry—not even when he notices the crimson blood oozing from his skin. Instead, he squares his shoulders, stands up, and walks right past the older boy.

Part of him want to go and tell a teacher, but then he would be a tattle tale, and nobody would want to be his friend. He still doesn’t think he needs anymore friends when he’s got an infinite number of stars, but Lea told him it was important.

Isak walks his way over to the swings, ignoring the sting from his cuts. He can slip away to the nurse once they go back inside and pretend he tripped. Nurse Mia never really asks questions, anyways.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear someone approaching. In fact, he doesn’t even realize there’s anyone near him until there’s a sudden shadow where the sunshine used to be hitting his face. He freezes in his spot, not daring to look up from his lap.

“Hei,” a voice says quietly. “Are you okay?”

Isak knows that voice. He’s spent the past few months scowling everytime he hears it.

He chances a peek up at the figure standing in front of him, and sure enough, it’s Jonas. His nemesis Jonas. As if this day wasn’t already bad enough.

“I’m fine,” Isak says quickly.

Jonas frowns. “I saw what William did. That wasn’t cool.”

Isak simply shrugs.

“But you know what _was_ cool?” Jonas steps closer. Isak flinches until he realizes that Jonas is just sitting down in the swing beside him. “You didn’t even cry.”

“It’s just a scratch,” Isak blushes. It’s more than just a scratch and they both know it—the small dribble of blood streaking down the side of his leg is proof.

“You’re a badass,” Jonas says, grinning wildly.

“You shouldn’t say badass,” Isak says, but he squares his shoulders with pride.

“You just said it,” Jonas points out. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“To tell you that you shouldn’t say it!” Isak says with a laugh. He thinks that maybe Jonas isn’t so bad after all.

Jonas and he start talking about their favorite soccer players (Beckham and Ronaldo) and which is the best Power Ranger (the red one, obviously) and Isak begins to realize that they actually have a lot in common. The more they talk, the more Isak starts wanting him as a friend rather than a nemesis.

By the end of recess, there’s a tiny constellation on the pad of skin between his thumb and index finger, and he and Jonas have plans to hang out after school.

-

_iv._

So maybe his pappa was right; it’s nice to have a real life friend.

Isak is currently spending his very first sleepover at the Vasquez household, and he already loves it. Mrs. Vasquez made them double chocolate chip cookies for dessert, and even promised them cinnamon buns in the morning. Jonas picked out a few movies for them to watch, and has his new game system all set up.

He finally understand why Lea spends every weekend at her friend’s house. Sleepovers are a lot better than being at home.

They’re sprawled out overtop their sleeping bags, PlayStation controllers in hand when Isak feels the call of the stars. Tonight it’s like an itch he can’t quite scratch, restless underneath his skin. He and Jonas are in the middle of a game, but he knows he can’t ignore them.

“Can we go outside?” Isak asks abruptly, dropping his controller down in front of him. His avatar is promptly killed on the spot, but Isak doesn’t even care about losing the game.

“Outside?” Jonas turns to him with a small frown. “Why would you want to go outside? It’s cold.”

Isak thinks about lying, but he doesn’t see the point. “I want to see the stars.”

“Oh,” Jonas mulls over his words for a moment. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Let's go see the stars.”

They have to be quiet as they make their way into the backyard, because Mrs. Vasquez is a cool mom, but she’s not cool enough to turn a blind eye to them wandering outside at night.

When his toes hit the dewy grass, Isak feels a sense of calm wash over him. The stars are mostly hidden behind clouds tonight, but the thrum of their energy is stronger than ever.

“I don’t see any stars,” Jonas says, peering up at the dark sky.

“They’re there,” Isak says, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. “I can bring them down here if you want.”

“You can’t take the stars from the sky,” Jonas says. The _duh_ is obvious in his tone. “They’re too high to reach.”

“I don’t have to reach them. I just ask them,” Isak shuts his eyes, exhaling deeply. After a moment, the spark of the stars grows stronger, until he can feel their weight on his palms.

“That’s so cool!” Jonas ducks down closer, his face less than an inch from Isak’s hands. “Do they hurt?”

“No,” Isak says with a shrug. “They’re just warm, I guess. Sometimes they tickle.”

“Can I hold them?” Jonas asks hopefully. Isak pauses.

He’s never seen anyone else hold the stars before, but then again, he’s never asked them to try. Most people ruffle his hair and tell him he has an _overexcited imagination_ when he tells them about his ability. Maybe it would be nice, having someone to share the burden that accompanies it with.

With another shrug, Isak carefully maneuvers the stars into a pile in the center of his palm. He’s gotten slightly better at controlling them, but they still have a mind of their own.

Jonas eagerly holds his hands out, cupping them just as he’d seen Isak do. Isak slowly tipped his hand forward, letting the stars roll off his finger tips.

He’d been expecting them to trickle down into Jonas’ hands, but instead, they take off like shooting stars. Streaks of light disappear before their eyes, and realign themselves back up in the sky.

Isak watches until the very last star is back in the sky, and waits just to be certain they’ll stay there. When they do, he turns to Jonas with an apologetic expression.

“I guess it doesn’t work with other people,” he says sheepishly.

“That’s okay,” Jonas assures, eyes wide with wonder. “I can’t believe you’re friends with the stars! You’re so lucky!”

He’s never considered himself lucky before, but now that Jonas has said it, he supposed that he is. He wouldn’t trade his stars for anything in the world.

-

_v._

So Isak has the stars, and Jonas, and they’re enough for him.

Until Jonas meets Mikael at the end of their second year at Nissen.

They’re over at Sana’s house working on some group project when her brother’s friends come downstairs. Isak’s met Elias on occasion, but the others are all unfamiliar. He and Sana continue to work as they clamor about the kitchen, but Jonas slips away to go and talk to them.

Isak doesn’t actually pay the group any mind because, frankly, he doesn’t care; but he probably should have taken a moment to notice a certain long-haired, bright smiled boy, because after that day he’s all Jonas can talk about. _Mikael is interested in photography. Mikael uses a special conditioner to make his hair soft. Mikael loves cats._

The thing is, Isak actually _likes_ Mikael. He thinks Mikael might just be the most likeable guy on the planet, really. He’s nice, and funny, and vaguely resembles a teddy bear. He just doesn’t like hearing about Mikael every waking moment of the day.

He’s happy that Jonas has found someone after Eva, but he misses his friend.

They’ve been inseparable since they were little, and it’s strange to suddenly have to share him. Even when Jonas was dating Eva, he still let Isak third wheel on most of their dates. Now though, Jonas is always texting Mikael with this dopey smile, and he doesn’t ask Isak to join them when they go out. It hurts probably more than it should.

But the worst part of the Jonas-having-a-boyfriend situation isn’t having less time with him; it’s Jonas’ sudden determination to play matchmaker for Isak.

It started off with Jonas trying to set him up with the guy working the night shift at the grocery. Then the baristro at their favorite coffee shop. Then boy Jonas occasionally buys weed off of.

And now, Mikael’s best friend Even.

They’re currently sitting on the couch doing a Saturday afternoon binge watching session of Narcos, and all Isak wants is to stuff his mouth full of popcorn and enjoy the show. Instead, he’s listening to another relationship rant from Jonas.

“—I’m just saying, Netflix and chill is a lot better when you actually get to do the chilling.”

“We’re chilling right now,” Isak protests.

Jonas sends him a look. “You need someone who you can hook up with, and I happen to know someone—”

“Jonas,” Isak interrupts with a groan. “I’m not interested in Mikael’s friend.”

“You’d like Even,” Jonas insists. Isak’s heard that exact lime at least ten times in the past few days. “He’s definitely your type.”

“My type,” Isak repeats, deadpan.

“Yeah,” Jonas gives him a smirk. “He has a dick and he’s hot.”

“Fuck off,” Isak tries to swat him upside the head, but Jonas ducks out of the way before he can.

“Come on,” Jonas’ expression drops into something more serious. “Remember that party I told you about? Even’s coming. You could tag along with me and meet him.”

“I don’t want to meet him.”

“You’ll meet him eventually anyways,” Jonas says. “He’s Mikael’s best friend. We’re all going to hang out together at some point.”

“That’ll be different and you know it,” Isak turns his gaze back toward the paused TV, shaking his head slightly. “I’m not going.”

“I know it’s been hard for you lately, since I’ve been spending more time with Mikael,” Jonas says softly.

“I’ve been fine,” Isak says, and it’s not exactly a lie. Maybe he’s missed his best friend more lately, but he’s adapting. And even when Jonas is off with Mikael, he still has his stars.

Jonas ignores him completely as he continues. “The party will be fun. Mikael said that they got their hands on some alcohol—you can finally learn to play beer pong! We could even be on the same team.”

“I don’t want to learn how to play beer pong,” Isak rolls his eyes. Jonas looks like he’s going to protest, so Isak quickly adds, “Tonight’s a full moon anyways.”

The stars are always stronger on the night of the full moon. Isak feels them like a constant buzz of energy, and it’s the only time he can’t seem to control them. His freckles transform to stars, and no amount of prodding will send them back until they’re ready.

“Shit , I completely forgot,” Jonas’ features soften with understanding. “Do you want me to stay home with you?”

“I don’t need you to babysit me,” Isak’s lips quirk. “Go spend time with your boyfriend.”

Jonas hesitates. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. If I need you, I’ll text you,” Isak promises. Though a small, selfish part of him would love for Jonas to stick around, there’s no reason for him to. He prefers solitude with his stars on full moon nights.

“Alright man,” Jonas says with a resigned sigh. He looks like he wants to say something more, so Isak starts the next episode of Narcos before he can.

-

_+1_

It’s 21:00 and Isak is wandering through the park a few blocks from the kollektiv. His connection with the stars is stronger when he’s away from the light pollution of the city.

He wanders down the familiar path, his wrists and forearms illuminated by bracelets of stars. The tug of their energy encourages him to continue walking in the direction of a gazebo he’s visited in the past.

The world around him is peaceful. He walks to the sound of crickets chirping—which is a welcomed change from the usual sounds of the city. He’s immersed in this little snippet of nature, and it provides him with a sense of fulfillment.

He rounds the final bend leading to the gazebo, ready to settle down and spend some quality time with his stars, and—

There’s a boy standing underneath the gazebo with the moon in his hands.

Isak freezes just a few feet from the steps, his heart hammering in his chest. He blinks his eyes frantically, just to make sure that the scene before him is real.

The boy is tall, at least a few inches taller than Isak, with a jawline that could cut diamonds. And sure enough, cradled in his hands is a perfectly round moon—the same full moon due to appear tonight. It has a particular glow, reminiscent of his own stars, that lets him know it real.

This is the first time he’s ever met someone like him, even if their situation isn’t the same. The boy gawks at him with an equally shocked expression, his eyes trailing down to Isak’s stars.

“I’m Even,” the boy says suddenly.

“Isak,” Isak responds, clearing his throat. He hesitantly moves closer, up onto the first step.

“You’re holding the stars,” Even says it like it’s a simple observation.

“And you’re holding the moon,” Isak gesturing feebly toward the glowing sphere in Even’s hands.

“The stars and the moon,” Even notes. Isak’s stars burn just a little bit brighter.

“Have you ever met anyone else…?”

“Like us?” Even shakes his head. “No.”

Isak finds that he’s not as disappointed by that as he should be. He wets his lips, taking yet another step up. “This is crazy.”

“Or maybe it’s fate,” Even says, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Fate,” Isak repeats skeptically. Nonetheless, he steps up properly onto the gazebo, standing just in front of Even.

“What’s wrong with fate?”

“There’s nothing _wrong_ with it; I just don’t believe in it,” Isak tugs his shoulder up in a halfhearted shrug.

“You’re holding the stars and I’m holding the moon, but you think fate is a far-fetched idea?” Even asks with a laugh. Isak’s cheeks flush.

“I wasn’t supposed to be here tonight,” Even adds. “I was actually at a party, but I felt… I felt like I had to leave, you know?”

Isak pauses. “You were at a party earlier?”

“Yeah. My friends were hosting,” Even says. “I’m not usually much of a partier.”

“That’s weird.”

“What?”

“Jonas, my best friend, was trying to convince me to go to a party that his boyfriend was hosting tonight,” Isak explains.

“Your best friend’s name is Jonas?” Even raises his brows, a grin spreading across his face. “Is he dating a Mikael, by chance?”

“No fucking way. You’re _that_ Even?” Isak blurts. Maybe he should have let Jonas set him up, after all.

“And you’re _that_ Isak,” Even says, grin widening impossibly. It’s almost as bright as his moon, and it makes Isak’s heart skip a beat.

“Wow,” Isak murmurs, shaking his head in sheer disbelief. “This is—wow.”

“Yet you don’t believe in fate,” Even teases.

“Maybe that’s starting to change,” Isak admits. He can’t think of any logical way that all of this could be a mere coincidence.

This time, it’s Even who takes a step closer to Isak. “Do you want to walk together for a while? Burn off some of this energy?”

“I’d like that,” Isak says softly. Even shifts the moon over to his right hand, offering his now free hand out to him.

Isak takes Even’s hand into his own—the stars and the moon, together at last.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always appreciated :)


End file.
